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As she made this reflection, she smiled, and then translated the smile into the thought, "If she has, she will look like a haystack." Now Ian's military suit in his department had been of white duff or linen, plentifully adorned with gilt buttons and bands representing some distinctive service.
It should have been a pleasant awakening, but Milly awoke from that long sleep of hers with a brooding sense of misfortune. The remembrance of the afternoon when she had so suddenly been snatched away returned to her, but it was not the revelation of Ian's passionate love for her supplanter that came back to her as the thing of most importance.
"I was on the river with him this afternoon, and he he made love to me." The lines of Ian's face suddenly hardened. "Did he?" he returned, significantly, playing with a paper-knife. Then, after a pause: "I'm awfully sorry, Milly. I'd no idea he was such a cad." "He he wanted me to run away with him." Ian's face became of an almost inhuman severity.
Then she solemnly kissed him on the cheek. Soon afterwards they went to their rooms. In his bedroom Gaston made a discovery. He chanced to place his hand in the tail-pocket of the coat he had worn. He drew forth a letter. The ink was faded, and the lines were scrawled. It ran: It's no good. Mr. Ian's been! It's face the musik now. If you want me, say so. I'm for kicks or ha'pence no diffrense.
Had the young man gone mad? Peegwish felt very uncomfortable. He had some reason to! Another thought had flashed into Ian's mind the words "your own unaided hands" troubled him. Peegwish could be kept out of the boat, but he could not be kept from rendering aid of some sort, in some way or other. There was but one resource. Ian sprang on Peegwish like a lion.
"Hush! what sort of a bird is that?" interrupted Victor, laying his hand on Ian's arm and pointing to a small patch of reeds in the lake. There were so many birds of various kinds gambolling on the surface, that Ian had difficulty in distinguishing the creature referred to.
They were both well known to our adventurers; old Peegwish whose chief characteristic was owlishness being a frequent and welcome visitor at the house of Ian's father. "You 'pears to be in one grand hurray," exclaimed Rollin, in his broken English. Ian at once told the cause of their appearance there, and asked if they had seen anything of Petawanaquat. "Yes, oui, no dat is to say. Look 'ere!"
He could not understand Ian's attitude, and he distrusted. Yet peace was better than war. Ian's truce was also based on a belief that Gaston would make skittles of things. A little while afterwards Gaston sat in his room, turning over events in his mind. Time and again his thoughts returned to the one thing marriage.
Gray eyes and brown eyes with gold flecks met in a gaze that was as steady with the one as with the other. It was Alexander who first loosened handclasp. They talked of affairs, particular and general, of Ian's late proceedings and the lairdship of Alexander, of men and places that they knew away from this countryside. Ian watched the other as they talked.
It was a mile to old Skene's cot. They walked it almost in silence upon Ian's part in silence. The snow fell; it covered their footprints. All outlines showed vague and looming. The three seemed three vital points moving in a world dissolving or a world forming. The empty cot rose before them, the thatch whitened, the door-stone whitened. Glenfernie pushed the door.
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